


Any Price for You

by HusbandoGoddess



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Manipulation, References to Depression, there is nothing happy about this because we're dealing with mysterio here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-09-25 10:15:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20375104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HusbandoGoddess/pseuds/HusbandoGoddess
Summary: Every day since graduation, life has slowly become gradually more and more agonizing for [Y/N]. She spent hours applying for jobs in the tech field. She had so many suggestions to innovate what was currently on the market as well as some  ideas of her own. However, nothing came. Years went on and her life became directionless. It was like she was stuck at sea and her life was the damaged boat. One more rough wave and it was over for her. Thanks to the Blip, the chances of her ever landing a job grew even slimmer.A couple years into the Blip, [Y/N] runs into a man named Quentin Beck. This meeting would give her life meaning again and she finally felt that boat she was on was moving back to land.Inspired by "I'll Only Love You More" from the Death Note Musical.





	1. A Chance Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lonely girl, whose hopes and dreams have died within her, meets a man at a coffee shop. What can go wrong?

Six years ago, the direction [Y/N]'s life was in question. Prior to the Blip, she recently graduated college with a duo degree in computer science and engineering with no jobs lined up. Her days were filled with hours browsing the internet and filling out applications for jobs related in her field. When she wasn't doing that, she was either at her 9-5 job as a cashier or she spent her time researching new tech and coming up with her own ideas. Seeing tech giants like Tony Stark creating invention after another filled her motivation to keep trying. There was even a small binder in her tiny apartment bedroom that was filled to the brim with sketches, tiny details scrawled next to each design. She hoped that someone would see the potential in her and maybe, her life would truly begin.

However, over the course of the next year, that hope dwindled and was akin to an old lighter always making a spark but never lighting up. Almost no one followed-up on her application and the few that did looked almost disappointed that a woman was throwing ideas at a bunch of older, white male executives. They let her down easy by never calling her back instead of saying that they were just afraid of her having better, more innovative ideas. The other option was to make her tech but with what resources? There were no materials because there was never enough money in her bank account to afford them. Plus, in order to create new tech, she needed a suitable lab to do and the apartment she had was no such place.

Soon enough, the Blip came. While she had her usual morning tea in a nearby cafe focused reviewing in what was her binder, the sounds of drinks falling to the establishment’s floor accompanied by the patrons’ screams took her out of her concentration. People were just turning into ash and disappearing. Confusion was the first feeling she felt. The next was desire. She desired to be one of them. She wanted to be taken away from a direction-less, meaningless life. Unfortunately for her, that never happened.

**Life is cruel, huh?**

Life went on for everyone, including [Y/N]. With no one to spend time, she found herself completely alone. Ideas for Inventions, technology, and making innovations to already published works were her only companions. Yes, she may be around survivors of the Blip, but they never tried to speak with [Y/N] because she was always busy looking in her binder and adding to it.

Until someone did.

December 19th, 2020. It was a cold, wintry day. The snow was light so [Y/N] was able to take the short walk down to her usual spot, the cafe. She ordered chamomile tea[1] ,it had become a favorite of hers during her years in college. She quickly thanked the server and took a seat towards the back so no one and no noise from outside could ruin her concentration. She put in her earbuds and started playing an old favorite of hers, “Livin’ Thing” by Electric Light Orchestra. Once the tone started to kick in, she took a deep breath and opened her binder. During her last brainstorming session, [Y/N] had come up with innovations to drones. She knew that the missing Tony Stark already had fantastic and beyond industry standard drones. They could project images that are so pristine, it's hard for people to tell the difference between the projection and reality. However, there's always more to improve upon them. Maybe the memory or storage capacity so it could hold more than just one scenario like Stark had suggested at the press conference where he announced the new technology crudely named BARF, Binary Augmented Retro Framing. Sure, it can be used for therapy but if it can pull up more scenarios, the more the user can do.

"If that does happen, the battery will have to be upgraded. But is battery life anyway?" [Y/N] mumbled to herself. She tapped her pen to the rhythm of the ELO song, trying to remember back to the conference. It was at times like this she had wished she did work in the tech field. Maybe then, she would know. Maybe then, her life would hold some meaning and excitement again.

This line of thinking opened the floodgates and her failures to get a job came rushing in. She felt tears prickle at the edge of her dark, sunken eyes. It was like she was stranded in the middle of the sea. She laid on an almost destroyed boat and one last rough wave would be the end of her.

Suddenly, [Y/N] felt a tap on her shoulder. She wiped away her tears and looked behind her to see a Caucasian man. The man, maybe in his mid-30s, sheepishly smiled at her. He looked so much better for wear compared to her. His beard was kept, and his hair was combed back, no little stray hairs like [Y/N]’s. 

[Y/N] took out her earbuds and tried to put on her best smile. IY/N] wanted to smack herself. He heard her mumbling or her crying. Either way, it was an embarrassing position to be in.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear you talk about technology.” He commented. “I was curious on what you were thinking about?” 

[Y/N] raised her eyebrows. “You mean this?” She grabbed her binder and showed him. On the page you showed him was a picture of one of Stark’s drones with little notes, including one about the therapeutic tech he showcased on one of drones during that conference including notes about BARF.

“Yes, that!” The mysterious man perked up when he saw the page loaded with information. In a few moments, the man moved his chair to your side and was too close for comfort. He didn’t even ask you if he could join you. But when you noticed he had a look of familiarity as he overlooked the work. It was when he glanced at your note of the acronym, BARF, when his disappeared.

“Fucking Stark…” He cursed under his breath.

“You know, I never liked that name for the tech. The acronym that is. It’s terribly named.” You commented.

“Yes, it was. When me and the other Stark Industry employees heard about the name, we all wanted to gag ourselves."

Your eyes widen. Wait, you were in the presence of a Stark employee?!

“Ah, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Quentin Beck. Yours?” The cloud in his eyes left him and became bright again. He smiled at [Y/N].

“My name is [Y/N]. It’s nice to meet a fellow innovator, especially someone of your talents! I wish-”

“I saw you had a ton of notes, some pertaining to the capabilities of the projector. Do you mind telling me what you had in mind?” Quentin cut [Y/N] off. Normally, she would be upset by the rudeness but oddly enough, she wasn’t here. Perhaps it had been because Quentin was like her, a passionate techie. It also showed he looked over her notes. None of the people she applied for seemed to care for what ideas she had or what she had to say. She felt this sense of warmth in her body and she couldn’t help but genuinely smile at the man in-front of her.

"Well, I was thinking of doing more with the projection capabilities. Stark mentioned how he it could be used to help people with PTSD deal with trauma. While that's all well and good, I was hoping we can push the envelope." [Y/N] went on. "It's just that I don't know any of the specs like the battery life."

Quentin sat there for a moment, processing what [Y/N] had just said. His smile grew wider. "How would you feel if I told you I knew all of that and more? You see, I'm the one who made that tech."

If [Y/N]'s jaw could hit the floor, it would. She stared at the man, trying to find a tell to see if he was lying. Stark, an absolute genius, didn't come up with this tech? Did he really just steal it from this guy?

"Hard to believe, I know but I can prove it to you." he grabbed [Y/N]'s shoulder and squeezed it. “What do you say, sweetheart?"

“I would be dumb to say no, especially if you’re the genius behind that piece of tech.” [Y/N] replied.

At [Y/N]’s words, Quentin smirked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Footnote: If you don't know much about tea, you might be wondering why I picked this particular tea for the reader character to drink. It is said that chamomile tea helps with relaxation. As you can tell, the reader is in much need for that!
> 
> Have you ever listened to a song from a musical and thought, "I need to write now."? The inspiration for this work was I'll Only Love You More from the Death Note Musical. Yes, that exists.
> 
> Quentin is a bit like Light Yagami. Both of them will do anything to achieve their ultimate justice, even if it means killing innocent lives and manipulating people along the way. The path they walk to their goal makes them spiral down into insanity but of course, they don't see it. Taking that into consideration made this a lot easier to write since I've watched a video or two studying Light as a character. It's not like I don't know Mysterio's character but having something or someone I can relate to makes writing in general easier for me.


	2. Meeting Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Y/N] meets up with Quentin Beck at his house for some hot coco and to see if he was really telling the truth back at the coffee shop about being the original creator of BARF.

After that day, [Y/N] and Quentin exchanged phone numbers to arrange for a day and time to meet up. While their meeting’s purpose was only purely for [Y/N] to see if Quentin was telling the truth, she would be lying to herself if that was _her_ sole reason she was going. She wanted to feel that warm feeling that swelled up in her chest when she had her exchange with Quentin in the coffee shop. It was foreign feeling, something she remembered feeling during her college days when she was around people like her who wanted to hear her ideas. Those people gave her the motivation to want to keep creating whenever midterms and finals got her down. It was a nice feeling she never thought she would feel again after all these years.

[Y/N] messaged Quentin a couple times a day, so she didn't come off as annoying. She would ask the usual questions, "how are you" and "what are you doing?" Quentin replied almost immediately, and he always asked her the same questions in return. He would also ask to see some pictures in her binder. By the time the two met up again, [Y/N] must have at least sent a week's worth of ideas to him.

December 28th, 2020 is the day the two finally met up. [Y/N] suggested that they talk over coffee at the cafe, but Quentin thought it would be better if it was just the two of them at his apartment. [Y/N] didn’t think much of it and went to the address Quentin had sent her. When she arrived, she was stunned to see a beige, single level house instead of an apartment. 

“How big is that Stark Industries paycheck?” She asked, envious. She walked up the stone pathway and knocked on the white door softly. As she waited for Quentin, [Y/N] looked around the premises. There was a garage, must be where he works. No decorations for the holiday season or lawn gnomes to be seen. The yawn that was covered in a thin layer of snow was a mix of medium-sized green grass and dead, brown grass. Before [Y/N] could make a smart remark about it all to herself, the door opened. Quentin’s hair was a bit messy and he was wearing lounge attire. Did he just wake up?

“Sorry for the wait, you must be freezing, [Y/N].” He smiled. He moved out of the way, holding the door for [Y/N] and extending his arm out, like one of those front door attendants at those fancy hotels. 

[Y/N] hung her heavy winter jacket and kicked off her winter boots before making her way further into the house. “You can wait in the living room, I’ll make us some hot chocolate.”

“Oh, hot chocolate? Are you trying to make me swoon over you, Quentin?” [Y/N] joked and it made Quentin chuckle a little bit.

“Maybe. I do make a killer hot coco.” He brushed past [Y/N] to make his way to the kitchen. [Y/N] sat down on a couch in the living room, taking it in. It was a rather plain living room. There were some pictures hung up, which seemed to be of Quentin and various people, like family or co-workers. But otherwise, the living room just had a couple of lovers chairs, the couch she was sitting on, a coffee table, and a decently sized wide-screen TV hanging on the wall.

“Not what I would expect an inventor’s house to look like…” She whispered to herself. Still waiting on Quentin, _again_, [Y/N] found the remote and turned on the TV. She quickly passed through the news, no need to be depressed. She flipped through one channel after another. Truly, TV was dying. [Y/N] sighed and just opted to put on a movie she’s never seen before, some Disney movie about a Japanese boy saving the world with his brother’s friends and a gigantic white blob...thing? It seemed cute and it would make for good background noise.

“Sorry for the wait,” Quentin said, “good things take time.” Quentin gave [Y/N] her mug full of chocolate goodness. She took one sip and her eyes widen.

“Holy shit, this is so good! What did you put in this? I’ve only used the powder!” 

“See, that’s where you went wrong. If you want to make something better, you need to innovate it. I’ve learned that from your notes.” He winked at her. 

**There it is again, that warm feeling.**

[Y/N] remembers someone said that during her senior year of graduate school. It was a professor but God, time has not been kind to her memory, so the name is a blur. But it was after a class where everyone had to not only come up with an idea but had to pitch it to everyone. She spent countless sleepless nights trying to perfect this single idea. The idea was for a medical robot that would be placed in areas that were harmed by war. It would tend to the wounds of the civilians caught in the crossfire. It was a bit like Tony Stark’s healing robots he had. It would remove any foreign objects out of the body and heal the wound in a matter of minutes. It’s better than only having a handful of medics deployed and having them tend to one or two patients at a time while the other injured people just had to wait and hope for the best they didn’t die before their turn came.

When she pitched it, her professor said that she liked how she wanted to innovate the field of medicine in the military and in war. The comment made her smile back then. Even now, she can feel her eyes, her mouth, and her spirit smile at Quentin.

“Hey, are you okay? You’re crying.” At his words, [Y/N] immediately wiped away her tears.

“Oh God, I’m sorry. It’s just that I haven’t heard someone say something nice about my ideas in so long! Thank you, Quentin, it honestly means a lot.”

“Heh, looks like we’re one and the same.” [Y/N] looked at him, puzzled. “Can you excuse me for a bit?” Quentin suddenly got up and put down her mug. He was out of the room before [Y/N] could even say something. When he came back, he had a red folder. “This right here is why you came here.” He sat down and opened the folder. He took out blueprints and laid them out on the coffee table in front of them. The blueprints that had drawings of something familiar. Looking closer at it, the lightbulb inside [Y/N]’s head lit up.

“Oh, the Binary Augmented Retro Framing!” Quentin nodded.

“Yes, the one and the same. Like I said to you before, this was my creation. But…” His hands balled into fists, shaking slightly. “Stark took it for his own and gave it that _horrible_ name.” It was like Quentin was spitting venom when he mentioned Tony’s name. So much hate was radiating from Quentin’s tone. “He refused to acknowledge how smart my idea was and when I lashed out at him after that conference, he called my _insane!_ Insane! And for what, telling him the truth?” Quentin said. “I told him that _my_ project could be used for so much more. You and I,” Quentin grabs one of [Y/N]’s hands, “are the same. No one can really understand our genius. When I saw you looking over your binder, I immediately felt a connection with you. I thought, ‘Wow, maybe this world isn’t so doom and gloom,’ you know? You and I can do so much together.” 

**“**What do you mean?” That was all a flushed [Y/N] could muster after that. It was just so much at once. Quentin saw something in her? He wants to work with _her?_

“[Y/N], I have this grand plan. It’s in the planning stage right now as I’m trying to get some of my former colleagues who were also treated horribly by Stark. I want you to join us. You after all, have been wronged by so many in the industry. You want to prove that they were wrong to deny you, right? So, what do you say?” Quentin asked, his grip tightening on [Y/N]’s hand, like he didn’t want to let her go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya! So, this originally wasn't supposed to be a series. I thought I could get away with making it a one-shot but when I began writing, it didn't make any sense for it to be. I had to cover a bit of pre-FFH as well as cover how Quentin's relationship with the reader transforms over time.
> 
> With that being said, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! The pacing isn't what I would have hoped for as I struggled between keeping this story go at a realistic pace and making something happen so the chapters don't seem like filler. Anyway, I hope you guys look forward to the next chapter. :)


	3. Doubt

**There (Y/N) was, stuck on her badly damaged boat in the middle of the sea. She felt she was going somewhere but where? To land or towards a thunderstorm that would be her undoing? Or maybe, she would roll down her sail and stay where she was?**

Was it a smart idea to leave Quentin there? That was the question (Y/N) was asking herself as she waited at the bus stop as the sun was finally disappearing and the stars were starting to show themselves.

_ “[Y/N], I have this grand plan. It’s in the planning stage right now as I’m trying to get some of my former colleagues who were also treated horribly by Stark. I want you to join us. You after all, have been wronged by so many in the industry. You want to prove that they were wrong to deny you, right? So, what do you say?”  _

The scene leading up to her abrupt departure replayed in her mind. Quentin's strong grip on her and a million thoughts rushing through her head.

He had a point. They were a bit of the same. Both of them got burned by someone with power and their potential dwindled as a result. Both of them came out as a different person afterwards. Quentin, angry. (Y/N), hopeless. Finally, they both wanted to get back at those who did them wrong. But, was that really a smart idea? Was it a smart idea to try and hurt Tony  _ fucking _ Stark? And what did this plan even entail? Quentin was light on the details.

Plus, even if she did join him, would she even be useful? Would her ideas even matter? Maybe Quentin judged her poorly. After all, so many people basically told her she wasn't good enough in recent years. Maybe he felt sorry for her when he saw her alone crying at a goddamn coffee shop and was just dragging her along this entire time to make her believe something that wasn't there. After all, he  _ just _ met her so what did he know?

Anxiety overwhelming her, (Y/N) quickly returned her hands to her side, got up, mumbled incoherently, and left without even looking at Quentin in the eye. She could have sworn she saw a flicker of anger on his face.

(Y/N) sat down on the bus stop bench and looked down, her vision of the sidewalk becoming blurry. "I'm such a fucking idiot."

Her cold tears rolled down her cheeks. 

And here was [Y/N] again, sad and alone.

It took an agonizing 10 minutes for the bus to finally make its way to where (Y/N) was. She wiped away the tears before getting on the bus and put on a weak smile for the bus driver. She took her seat one of the crusty backseats. She leaned her head on the frosty window, not caring about the cool feeling when her face touched it.

When she got home almost an hour later, (Y/N) threw her winter coat to the ground ignoring the coat hanger that was right there, kicked off her shoes and fell right into bed. She ignored the buzzing of her phone and closed her eyes, submitting herself to the darkness.

The next morning, (Y/N) practically had to drag herself out of her bed and face the day. What a train-wreck yesterday was.

She took a look at her phone and saw that she had 20 messages from Quentin and a few missed calls form him as well. The text messages were about an hour or so after she left; All of them could be summarized as Quentin being...worried?

_ I'm so sorry. Did I do something? Please tell me if I _ _did._

That was just one of the many messages he had sent her. When she got to the end of the messages, which only increased in length and in concern, (Y/N) felt that warmth again. The warmth she only felt with Quentin. She smiled to herself, but only briefly before immediately texting him back.

_ You're fine. It's just...that was really sudden and my anxiety didn't help matters. I've only just met you, Quentin. Please give me a few days to think on this. _

Three dots appeared and then disappeared. Then, reappeared. Rinse and repeat. What was Quentin typing?

After five minutes, the following message appeared:

_ That's fine. Let me know of your decision as soon as possible. I would love someone with your smarts on my team.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmmmm, love me some of that ANGST!
> 
> I'm back in college! Can I get a wahoo for productivity on anything not school-related going down the drains? Right now, my full focus is on school and work, so everything else is taking a backseat. 
> 
> By the way, did you notice how Quentin kept typing and deleting his message? Maybe he didn't know how to respond when someone told him to wait. He likes to get what he wants when he wants, wouldn't you say? Anyway, this wouldn't be a series if he didn't get what he wanted eventually! ;)


End file.
